


Break Apart my Insides

by monchy



Series: BAMI [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Age Difference, Incest, Minor Character Death, Multi, Parent/Child Incest, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-24 02:49:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/629475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monchy/pseuds/monchy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Burt's death, Kurt discovers that he wasn't his true father, but that he's the son of Sebastian Smythe, a man he's never met but that he must go live with now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Break Apart my Insides

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: INCEST.

The first thought that comes to mind when they tell him, is that maybe he should stop thinking of dad as _dad_ , and start thinking of him as Burt. Just the idea makes his stomach turn, twist and twist again, and _God_ he wants to vomit. Maybe it doesn't matter, though, because Burt - dad, dad, will always be dad, no matter what they say - is already buried, his body underground and far away, where Kurt can't reach him.

Carole is reaching for him, hand outstretched and shaking, and Kurt wants to recoil from her touch but doesn't have the energy for it. She looks pained and heartbroken, and a part of him wants to yell at her because she means nothing now. She was only his dad's girlfriend, and what does that make her now that his dad is not his dad anymore?

"Kurt, sweetie, do you understand what we're saying?" she says, voice pitched low and concerned.

Rationally, Kurt understands. Burt Hummel is dead. He's dead and he wasn't your dad, and now you have to go away to your real father. Because Burt adopted you after you were born but now he's gone and your closest relative is someone named Sebastian Smythe who lives in Seattle and who once slept with your mom.

Kurt runs to the bathroom, and tries to puke. He tries but only manages to dry heave, and he notices the air leaving his body and he can't breathe. He can't breathe and his dad is gone, and his dad wasn't his dad. He thinks he can't survive this.

When the tears start coming, he realizes Carole is hugging him tight, kneeling on the floor next to him and rocking him slightly. She's mumbling sweet nothings into his hair - _I know, sweetheart, I know, I know_ \- and Kurt clutches at her, wishes he could stay trapped in her embrace forever.

A couple of weeks later, he's boarding a plane to Seattle.      

 

* * *

 

Before he leaves, there's a lot of paperwork. Inheritances, the future of the garage, the house, everything that Kurt has ever known is now put in question. He's a minor, so everything is his, but not really. They still expect him to make decisions. It's Carole who fixes everything, making sure that Ray, who has worked at the garage since Kurt has memories, manages it, and she makes sure that the house is properly closed for when Kurt decides what he wants to do with it. She also makes sure that his friends visit only to say a quick goodbye - no singing, no tears, and Kurt is thankful because he doesn't think he can take it. She even helps him pack a few suitcases, choosing what she thinks are his favorites.

When the time to say goodbye comes, he clings to her and cries. He thinks he'll never stop crying.

    

* * *

 

The story, or at least the story they want him to hear, goes like this:

His mother had known the Smythes through her own parents. Both were highly connected families, what was usually called _old money_ , and what Kurt's mother had hated since she had been old enough to understand. She had always made an effort to stay away from family obligations, but even at her most rebellious, she couldn't turn her back to her family. There were cocktails, parties and dinners, and she put up with them as best as she could, even forcing a smile when she was asked to.

With graduation came freedom, and she moved away to study music, her true passion. There was something about it that her parents never liked, saying that it was nice for a young lady to play the piano, but that it could hardly be considered a profession, now could it? They reasoned, though, that with a good enough marriage, a college title in music could actually be something that projected class and culture, so they accepted it. What they didn't think, though, was that by the age of twenty seven their daughter wouldn't find herself particularly inclined to find a husband.

It all happened one night of September that started with a big father-daughter fight. There was nothing parents could do to a rebellious twenty seven year old who hadn't asked for a penny in years, but that didn't mean that they couldn't try. There was talk of the family name being ruined, and many more unpleasant things, all of them rebuffed with the argument that she didn't even need to be there, so they better be happy that she was willing to put up with their nonsense and their parties.

That night, Kurt's mom met Sebastian Smythe, a fifteen year old that already held the title of _black sheep_. He was boyishly pretty, and by the time he was forced to dance with every single woman at the party, he was already drunk. In Kurt's mom, he found a kindred spirit. They went together to the balcony, hiding themselves from the party, and she assured him that he would escape, that there would be a time when they wouldn't be able to tell him what to do. When he kissed her, she didn't stop him.

He'd never been with a woman before - he'd been with men, but there was no point of a confession at the time - and she'd been with enough men to tell him what to do. They were drunk, drunk enough that she forgot to stop herself from touching such a young boy. Nine months later, she gave birth to Kurt.

It was a scandal, of course. She lost her good name, and he was informed of the matter despite her protests. She hadn't wanted to burden a child with the knowledge of a mistake that had been only hers, but she hadn't been given a choice in the matter. That had been the last straw, of course, the one that had separated her from the family definitely. Years later, the Smythes would think of the unpleasant business as a nightmare, and Sebastian would forget it had ever happened.

When Kurt was a year old, his mom met Burt Hummel. He was a simple man, kind-hearted and warm, and everything she had ever wanted. He had taken her, child and all, and Kurt had belonged to Burt since then. Until Kurt turned sixteen, of course, and Burt died of a heart attack, leaving him to face a man who had once been a frustrated boy, and who had made a mistake.

         

* * *

 

Sebastian lives in an apartment near Pike Place in Seattle, and that's all Kurt knows about him when he rests his hands against the door, still not quite ready to ring and face the man he can't bring himself to think of as his father. He had been hyperventilating a mere hour before, when he'd been positive that he was going to be received at the airport by the man himself. Instead, he'd been received by a car and a nameless driver. He hates that he had felt so relieved.

He has three suitcases with him, his laptop and his satchel, and he's standing at an apartment door in a strange city and getting ready to meet a strange man. When he rings the doorbell, his finger is trembling.

Sebastian is... not what he expected. Kurt's done the math, knows that he's thirty-one, but he looks even younger. He's tall and lanky, all his features attractive but sharp. He has green eyes and sandy hair, and he looks nothing like Kurt. At least no one lied when they said that he looked like his mother.

They stare at each other for a second, Sebastian leaning against the frame of the door and Kurt clutching at the strap of his satchel with fingers that can't stop moving, scrunching the material only to let it go seconds later. Without a word, Sebastian moves away and motions for Kurt to follow him. He doesn't help with his bags.

Kurt drags the bags inside the apartment and leaves them there, following Sebastian's figure as it moves through the house. He wants to look around, but his eyes are too focused on the man in front of him. His brain can't fully register that that's his father, certainly can't bring itself to think of him as anything other than _Sebastian._

They reach a room at the end of a hallway and Sebastian pushes it open and motions inside. It's a simple space, white walls, a big bed, a window on the side and a door that must lead to a bathroom. Kurt looks around, because while there's nothing to see, it's easier than looking at the man standing not three feet away from him.

"This is your room," is the first thing that Sebastian says. Kurt flinches at the sound, almost too used to the way people have made a point of staying silent around him these past few weeks. Sebastian's voice is pretty, low and masculine in a way Kurt's will never be. A part of Kurt is relieved that there seem to be no similarities between himself and this man.

"Do... whatever you want with it," he continues, a hand moving around and eyes set somewhere on the wall. "There's a set of keys for you by the door." A beat, two, and then the monotonous sound of Sebastian's voice continues. "You'll go back to school on Monday. Public school." Kurt wonders if that's disgust in Sebastian's voice. "It's the best I could do with the year already started... we'll talk about a better place for next year. I'll drive you Monday morning."

There's more silence then, and it feels stifling and contrived. Kurt's hands are still holding onto the strap of his satchel as if he were drifting in the sea and it was a lifesaver. He doesn't think he's supposed to say anything.

"I'll let you to settle."

With that, Sebastian leaves the room. Kurt wasn't expecting a tearful reunion, but he was expecting something more than this. He shakes his head, though, too numb to try and process what's happening, and settles his laptop and satchel on the bed to go look for his suitcases. By the time he has them on his room, Sebastian has left the apartment. The sound of the front door closing seems too loud in the silence of the house, and Kurt doesn't know how to feel about this new life he's been forced into. A part of him wants to be understanding of Sebastian, who must be having a hard time with this. Another wants to be angry, at life and at his mom and his dad for hiding this, and for dying and for leaving him alone in this empty room. Somewhere in him there's also an impulse to stop thinking and just unpack and explore the house and get used to this. In the end, the feeling that settles is grief, forcing a quiet sob from between his lips. 

      

* * *

 

Sebastian doesn't come back that first night, so Kurt rummages through the kitchen - big, spacey and beautiful - and cooks enough for two. He only eats a bite, though, feeling himself incapable of stomaching more, and then cries over the leftovers until he can barely breathe. By the time he goes to bed, he's so exhausted he can't even be bothered to feel strange about the cold white sheets and his unpacked clothes.

         

* * *

 

That first weekend marks the way life is going to work from now on. Sebastian and Kurt become shadows that barely cross paths inside the same house. They talk only when necessary, don't share meals and when possible, they don't share the same space. Sebastian spends most of his time inside a room that works as his office, either at his desk writing furiously or at his couch reading a book.

Kurt uses his time to wander around the apartment, discovering nooks and crannies and inspecting every room except for Sebastian's bedroom and office. He touches his fingertips to the spines of the dozens of books stacked in different rooms - law and essays and fantasy and drama and a little bit of everything - sits on every available surface and inspects every photo he can find. He likes the place, likes that it tells him more about Sebastian than the man is ever going to tell himself.

Kurt chooses not to answer his phone during those first two days, ignoring Mercedes, Rachel and Finn like the plague. He can't afford to think of Ohio, where he had a life and a dad and things to love, even if it felt like Hell itself sometimes. The absence of Burt is heavy in his heart, a dad shaped hole that he suspects he's never going to fill.

When the weekend is over, he's pretty sure he hasn't shared more than twenty words with Sebastian. He hates him a little, hates his tanned skin and green eyes that look nothing like his own, hates his silence and his pompous name and the sharpness of his smirk. And it's easy to hate him from afar, to mentally yell at him for not even being close to what a dad is supposed to be. A part of Kurt wants to scream _you'll never be my father,_ but he's scared that the answer he'll get will be _you'll never be my son._

    

* * *

 

On Monday morning they share the kitchen for exactly twenty minutes. It's the longest they've spent in the same room, and Kurt feels uncomfortable with Sebastian next to him. He's trying not to stare, but he finds himself inevitably drawn to the razor-sharp set of lips that is Sebastian's mouth, and to the way his hands move when making coffee. He doesn't know if he's looking for something that reminds him of himself, or if he's just too fascinated to look away.

On a regular morning back home, he would have been making a healthy lunch for his dad, joking around and maybe sharing some wisdom about his clothing choices. The thought almost makes him cry.

When Sebastian speaks, Kurt is so startled that he almost drops the coffee mug he's drinking from.

"Is that what you're wearing to school?" is what Sebastian asks, pointing at his outfit. His lips are forming a smirk, and Kurt hates the way the expression makes Sebastian's face look cruel.

Kurt straightens his shirt before answering, looking down at his skinny jeans, boots and tie, feeling the weight of his hat heavy on his head. He loves the outfit, and knows that it almost screams gay with its bright colors and tight fit. Looking up at Sebastian, he nods.

Sebastian only stares at him, and after dropping the smirk, says, "That's a brave choice." The tone is sharp and unforgiving, and Kurt silently begs _please don't be a homophobe, please at least give me that._

A few minutes later, they climb together on Sebastian's car. It's a black, shiny Mustang, and Kurt would drool over it if only he wasn't busy nodding at Sebastian telling him that he'll only drive him the first day, that he can walk to school by himself.

They ride in silence, and Kurt uses the time to look at Sebastian's profile. After a while, he asks, "What do you do?"

Sebastian looks at him for half a second, and then looks back at the road.

"For a living, I mean," Kurt clarifies when there's no answer.

"I'm a lawyer," Sebastian answers finally, and Kurt's not surprised. He's been studying the cut of Sebastian's black suit, the sober combination of white shirt and grey tie, and he'd guessed something to do with law or with banking.

"Do you like it?"

Sebastian shrugs. "It's a job."

After Sebastian leaves him at school, Kurt can't help thinking how sad everything about him seems.

         

* * *

 

It takes the jocks two weeks to find him.

Despite the clothes and his status as new student, Kurt's been laying low, too busy with his grief to try to talk to anybody, or to do something other at school than pay attention to his classes. He knows it's stupid, burying himself in his pain and not even trying to get out of it, but he wears it as a second skin now, one that won't let him feel anything of what's going on around him.

The first clue he gets of having been spotted is his shoulder connecting against a locker. The sound is loud and the pain sharp, shooting down his arm and reaching his palm. It's so familiar it's almost comforting.

"Well, don't you look fancy, new kid?"

Kurt sighs and leans back against the lockers, looking up instead of at his attacker. He's heard so many words that they all sound the same by now, no matter that this is Seattle instead of Ohio. He bites the answer from his tongue, figures it's easier to just let the guy get it out of his system and then go.

The guys sneers his way, says, "Fag."

The disgust is clear and sharp, and it makes Kurt react almost immediately. He looks forward into the guy's eyes, and says. "Wow, that's creative. Really, no one has come up with that one before."

"Are you making fun of me?" The question comes after the guy has slammed his fist next to Kurt's face. He's tall and burly, and this close Kurt can feel his warm breath on his face. Kurt closes his eyes tight, and says nothing. "That's what I thought," says the jock.

He walks away after shoving Kurt one more time, making sure that it's the same shoulder that receives the impact. He'll have a bruise in no time.

          

* * *

 

Kurt fills the time he's not at school with homework and reading. Sebastian has an extensive collection of books, and he doesn't seem to mind Kurt borrowing whatever he feels like reading. He also starts walking around the city for long periods of time. The weather is very cold this time of the year, so he wears layers upon layers of clothing, coat, scarf, gloves and hat, and simply walks.

He discovers the city little by little, and he finds that it's easy to avoid thinking too much when he's being fascinated by his surroundings. He usually walks at night, too, because the house is warm and nice, but when Sebastian shares his space he feels stifled and uncomfortable. He wishes they would talk. He doesn't require long, meaningful conversations, but something, _anything_ would be welcomed.

There's things Kurt wants to ask, about his mom and about Sebastian's life. He also wants to know what he thinks of him being gay, if he has any favorite spots in the city and if he has any friends at all. He doesn't want Sebastian to be his father (the thought makes his stomach churn with unpleasantness, the memory of Burt still fresh in every fiber of his being), but he wouldn't mind them getting along. As it is, he feels lonelier than he would have if he had actually been living alone.

It is after one of his walks that he discovers something else about Sebastian. He comes home late, past midnight, because it's Friday and he loves the city at night so much that he's lost track of time. What he finds in the kitchen forces a gasp from his throat. The man standing there, fully naked while searching for something in the fridge, turns around immediately.

"Oh, hey, sorry, didn't know there was someone else here," the man says.

Kurt says nothing, keeping his hand cupped around his mouth from the surprise. His eyes, traitorous and young, skim through the naked body, from strong tanned legs to muscled arms and chest. He blinks twice when he catches sight of the man's cock, and then finally looks away.

"God, sorry!" says the man after what's only seconds. "I didn't notice-I'm just-Hold on a sec!" He runs away from the kitchen, and comes back a minute later with a towel wrapped around his waist. It doesn't hide much, but at least it gives Kurt enough relief to relax his shoulders.

The man gives him a soft, sheepish smile, and Kurt can't help but think that it's somehow adorable.

"Sebastian didn't mention that he had company," the man says. "Certainly not company this pretty."

Kurt blushes, furiously. He feels unbalanced and wary, and only wishes this man would stop talking and would cover himself fully. The amount of naked skin is distracting, and he feels hot and cold at the same time.

"Tom, what the fuck is taking you long?" comes a voice from the hallway. Not a second later, Sebastian is padding into the kitchen, thankfully wearing a pair of low hanging sweatpants. He's bare-chested, though, tanned, freckled skin - so different from Kurt's own - on display, and Kurt has to look away and swallow.

He catches the leer that the man throws Sebastian's way before pressing a hand to his chest, fingers spread wide. With that point of contact on Sebastian's skin - and God, now Kurt can't look away - the man says, "Were you keeping this pretty thing all to yourself?"

Kurt can't look at Sebastian's face, but the tone of his voice is enough that he can picture the hard set to his eyes. "That's my son."

Kurt inhales sharply at the words, and they bounce and echo inside his skull. _That's my son._ It's the first time either one of them has voiced the relationship, and his stomach is recoiling from it. He wants to yell _no, I'm not, I'm really not._

"Really?" the man says. "I didn't think-I-"

And Kurt knows what the man has been thinking; that Sebastian isn't old enough for a kid his age, that surely Kurt was some twink Sebastian had under his roof to do God knows what with him.

"That's it, you didn't think," Sebastian's tone is sharp. "Why don't you pick up your clothes and go?"

"Seb, come on, it was an honest mistake."

Sebastian sneers, the expression making his face ugly for a second. "I'm tired of you anyway, so just go, Tom."

In the time that Tom takes to find his clothes and then his way out of the apartment, Kurt and Sebastian just stand there, impassive, staring at each other. Kurt's mind is reeling, trying to understand that this man in front of him, half naked, golden skinned, so attractive that it hurts Kurt to think about it, is gay. He's gay and he's his father. _That's my son._ The thought still feels unpleasant, like a betrayal to the one man that was his real family.

After Tom leaves, the door loud when he closes it behind him, Sebastian's shoulders sag, the muscles of his neck relaxing almost immediately.

"Go to bed," he says. "It's late." He's never sounded more fatherly than now.

When he turns to leave, Kurt stops him with, "Wait! But," he starts, "my mom, she, _she_."

Sebastian sighs, looks him in the eye with an undecipherable emotion etched on his face. "I was fifteen and drunk," he says. "There's nothing more to it, kiddo."

Kurt flinches, takes a step back unconsciously. "Please don't call me that." He doesn't explain any further, doesn't say that that was what Burt called him.

"I'd call you princess, but I hardly think you'd like that one either."

Kurt's lips settle into a thin line, suddenly angry. He doesn't want to be here, looking at this man and his chest and thinking about whatever it was he spent his afternoon doing with the man that just left. He wants to go back home, so bad that he almost forgets that he doesn't have a home to go back to anymore.

"I'm not your son," he says suddenly, a sharp edge to his words. He can already feel the tears welling in his eyes, and he hates everything about life right now. "I'm never going to be your son."

With that, he goes to his room, and hides himself from the world.

            

* * *

 

Life goes on after that. If Kurt feels somewhat uneasy at the new discovery, he shoves the feeling somewhere to the back of his mind and tries to ignore it. And God, does he try. It's difficult, though, since now that Sebastian seems to think that Kurt doesn't mind to share the house with a third party (a third _male_ party) the parade of men is unstoppable. Most of the time he doesn't see them, but sometimes he runs into them half-naked somewhere in the house, leaving the shower or looking for something in the kitchen. They never seem to stay for breakfast, though, and for that Kurt is thankful.

There's one remarkable incident on a late October afternoon, when he finds a half-naked man on the couch of the living room, and a half-naked Sebastian on top. He runs outside, not even knowing if he's been seen. The most worrisome part of it is that his mind can't stop recalling the shape of Sebastian's fingers as they made their way down the others man's chest. And it's not the chest he thinks of, but the hands.

Sometimes he hears them, too, when they get too loud in Sebastian's room, and Kurt has to fight the urge to listen. On those nights, he puts his headphones on, and hums himself to sleep.

           

* * *

 

School is a bit of a nightmare. He doesn't talk about it, though, not even when Carole asks - soft-voiced and concerned, as if she's afraid she's going to break him if she talks too loud - about his new life. He's tempted to confess that it barely feels like a life anymore, but he's wary of burdening her with his problems. He's not her son, not really - no more than he is Sebastian's - and he can't bring himself to break down in front of her. It's easy, though, talking to her occasionally, more than it is talking to anyone else from Ohio, so he cherishes their short, once-a-week chats over the phone.

Most of the time, he can find ways of avoiding the jocks who seem hell bent on making his life miserable at school. He's been through this already, knows to avoid being alone in the hallways or actively provoking anyone. His clothes seem to be provocation enough, though, and the shoving against walls and lockers is almost constant, no matter how much he tries to avoid it.

It's after a particularly hard shove that he meets Taylor. He's sitting on the floor, frustrated and tired more than terrified, and he closes his eyes hard, scrunching his features and thinking about a red pair of slippers than he could wish upon. When he opens his eyes, there's a blonde boy looking at him with big, brown eyes.

"You ok over there?" he asks.

Kurt scrambles to his feet in no time, pulling hit satchel up and close to his chest. "Yes, very well. Nothing like the school's dirty floor to rest for a second."

When Kurt starts walking away, the boy follows. "I'm Taylor, by the way," he says.

"Hi, Taylor," Kurt offers.

"... Ok. How about a name? Is only polite."

Kurt stops and turn on his heels, looking straight at Taylor, who looks startled at the sudden stop. Kurt's been making such an effort at not talking to people that this random stranger approaching him feels like an inconvenience. He's smiling, though, and considering that all the interaction he's gotten in this school has come in the form of shoves and taunts, Kurt gives the kid a break.

"I'm Kurt," he says, keeping his hands on the strap of his satchel, hesitant of offering a hand-shake.

Taylor smiles even wider, a pair of adorable dimples appearing on his face. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Kurt shrugs. He's tried, but he feels all out of energy to do any more talking for the day.

"I'll," he starts, "I'll see you around, ok?"

"Ok!" Taylor yells at his retreating back, "See you around!"

        

* * *

 

The afternoon he talks to Finn about New Directions' win at Sectionals, Kurt finds himself baking cookies and fighting the tears in his eyes. He's glad he talked to Finn and not to Rachel, who would have been even more hurtful in her talks of how nothing was wrong with the world except the fact that she didn't get a solo. Finn had sent him a video, but Kurt can't bring himself to watch it. Instead, he bakes.

"Well, aren't you the little housewife," is what Sebastian says when he finds him baking a second batch.

Kurt closes his mouth tightly, and swallows the choice of words that's at the tip of his tongue. Sebastian seems to notice the distress mixing with anger in him, and instead of saying something else, he picks up a cookie and bites. The sound of pleasure coming from his parted lips makes Kurt close his eyes.

"They're amazing," he whispers, and Kurt manages half a smile for him.

Sebastian doesn't leave the kitchen, instead standing there while munching silently on a second cookie. Kurt wants to ask him if he wants something, but chooses to keep working in silence until Sebastian leaves the room. Except that he doesn't, and he reaches out a hand towards Kurt.

"Hey, are you alright?" he asks right before his hand, long fingers and wide palm, lands on Kurt's shoulder. Kurt flinches immediately, and when Sebastian moves away he wants to tell him that it's not him, that it's only that his shoulder seems to be permanently bruised these days.

Sebastian opens his mouth as if to say something, but the expression soon changes to one of suspicion. He narrows his eyes, and instead of stepping away like Kurt thought he would, he steps forward, and presses a couple of fingers against his throat. Kurt's breath hitches, blinking at the sudden sensation. They're just two warm spots against his skin, but they seem to be making him dizzy. Those same two fingers slide down his throat and towards his shoulder, dragging the fabric of his shirt just enough to show the beginning of a yellowing bruise. Sebastian doesn't move his fingers away, instead wrapping his whole hand gently around his shoulder. Kurt doesn't remember the last time someone touched him, and the warmth of Sebastian's hand paired with his sudden proximity are making it hard for him to breathe.

"So," Sebastian begins, his tone harsh, "How are things at school, Kurt?"

Kurt reacts by moving his shoulder away and taking a step back from Sebastian. The fabric of his shirt immediately moves to hide the bruise.

"Look, it's nothing that hasn't happened before," Kurt says. "You said yourself that my clothes were a _brave choice._ "

"I don't care if you walk down those hallways in heels and a fucking tutu, princess, it's not your fault that the world is still plagued by Neanderthals."

Kurt swallows, and then looks down. He's heard so many times that he should perhaps tone down his clothing choice that the sharp tone of anger on Sebastian's voice is overwhelming. There's quiet support in his words, and Kurt is suddenly thankful, suddenly not as lonely as he's been for the past couple of months. Still, he says:

"It's nothing I can't handle, honest."

Sebastian doesn't look convinced in the least, but he lets the subject drop, anyway. If he seems to ask about his well-being more after that, well, Kurt can at least appreciate the effort.

            

* * *

 

"I've been thinking," says Sebastian one night, "that maybe you'd like to go back to Ohio for Christmas."

Kurt opens his mouth, but the words die before they can come out. His heart beats fast and wild, suddenly stunned with the possibilities. He'd sort of resigned himself to a bit of a lonely Christmas, hadn't thought that Sebastian would offer anything different.

"I have some family stuff to attend to," Sebastian continues, a grimace twisting his features. "It's not really something you want to go to." Kurt knows the real words are _they don't want you there_ but he's thankful for the lie, anyway. "Maybe you can spend some time with a friend? Or, um, what's her name? The woman that was da-"

"Carole," Kurt answers before Sebastian's lips have the chance of talking about his dad.

"Yes, her."

Kurt thinks about it. He honestly hadn't contemplated the idea, and even if he initially had felt like jumping at the chance to go back home, he feels wary now. He wonders what it would be like, Christmas with Carole and Finn. He could spend some time with them, and some with Mercedes and Rachel and any other member of New Directions who hasn't already forgotten about him. He could also wallow in his own misery at spending such a time of the year in the same place as always without his dad. The pain is so sudden that it feels like a stab.

"I think," he says. "I think I'd rather stay here, if you don't mind."

      

* * *

 

Christmas is a quiet time, but Kurt appreciates being far away from Ohio. It makes it easier to think about this time of the year being just like any other, and it makes the grief feel like an unpleasant memory. He walks a lot during those days, and he indulges Taylor by going out for coffee with him. He's been a near constant presence at school lately, and has even tried to introduce Kurt to some of his friends. The old Kurt that still lives somewhere inside him honestly appreciates the effort, feels warm at having someone offering a friendly hand. The rest of him is too busy drowning in loneliness, though, and making friends feels like too much of an effort.

Taylor and coffee he can do, though, and it's almost nice the way Taylor is so obviously into him. Kurt thinks about it for a second, kissing Taylor just to know what kissing a boy is like. With the way Sebastian goes through men, he's been suddenly made too aware of his own sexuality and his lack of experience of any kind. Taylor has nice lips, and Kurt thinks kissing him would be nice. He doesn't, though, out of fear or caution he's not sure, but he doesn't kiss him.

Christmas day Sebastian spends with his family, and even makes an uncomfortable attempt at inviting Kurt to go with him. A morbid part of Kurt wants to go and meet the Smythes, these people that come from _old money_ and that are as much Kurt's family as Sebastian is - _not at all_ , he thinks, _blood is not family._ He saves himself the possible humiliation, though, and declines the offer. He declines a second one on New Year's Eve.

He crosses over to the New Year sitting in the living-room couch and watching _The Breakfast Club._ He's halfway through the movie when Sebastian stumbles home, his bowtie undone and his sandy hair wild-looking, as if he's been combing his hands through it repeatedly. Kurt suppresses an expression of surprise when he plops down next to him on the couch. The first thing Sebastian does after sitting down, is snort.

" _The Breakfast Club?_ I should've guessed you'd be a fan," he says. "What do you like best, the popular girl with the bad boy, the girl that's only worth it after a make-over or the poor guy left to do all the work?"

Kurt just rolls his eyes. "You're completely missing the point of the movie, you know?"

"Of course I am," Sebastian says, sarcasm tingeing his words.

He says nothing more, but he doesn't get up either. They watch the movie in what's almost companionable silence, subconsciously leaning closer until their arms are touching.

Kurt can't help but peek short looks at Sebastian's profile. He's softly illuminated by the lights coming from the screen, and he looks tired and sad. It's his usual look, Kurt thinks, and he wonders just exactly how lonely Sebastian is that he feels the need to survive with random hookups.

When the movie is over and the credits are rolling, they're left in near darkness. Sebastian looks at him, letting his head rest on the back of the couch, and Kurt looks back. They're sitting close together, and Kurt feels himself blush for no apparent reason. He can hear Sebastian's soft breathing between them, in and out, slow and steady. He's the first one to look away, and he brings his legs up and wraps his arms around them, feeling suddenly invaded.

"Wait here," Sebastian says after a minute of silence.

Kurt looks at Sebastian as he leaves the room, his gaze curious. When he comes back, he's carrying a couple of Champaign flutes and a bottle of the clear liquid. He sits back down and opens the bottle, the cork flying to the other side of the room with a loud popping sound. Kurt giggles a little at the sound, and then covers his mouth to stop himself.

"Here," Sebastian offers him a filled flute, and he takes it. "Happy New Year," he says, and Kurt hates that those words are tinged with sarcasm.

"Happy New Year," he offers softly, and clinks his glass against Sebastian's in a small toast.

          

* * *

 

Somehow, it gets easier after that. They talk more, they banter, and if they don't over share at least they acknowledge each other's presence. They don't act like father and son, though, and for that Kurt is grateful.

                    

* * *

 

March is fast approaching, and Kurt is almost happy to see the weather start to change. It's always _almost,_ because full happiness seems like an impossible feat. He doesn't hate life so much these days, though, and the apartment in Seattle is starting to feel like a home. He likes to think that the few words he and Sebastian share each day are a small relief to the loneliness that seems to persecute them both.

One of the nights Sebastian isn't home, he takes the book he's reading and settles himself on the living room couch, under the soft light of a table lamp. He's positive that at some point during the night he'll hear Sebastian come back home, company included, and he'll have to use his headphones as a buffer between his attempts at  sleep and whatever activity Sebastian conducts in his room.

He feels awkward at being able to think about Sebastian's sexuality so easily. He wouldn't even dream about thinking of Burt and sex in the same sentence, but with Sebastian, sex is almost a character trait, one that Kurt gets even more acquainted with that same night, when Sebastian stumbles into the house with his mouth attached to some guy's.

Kurt doesn't want to look, he truly doesn't, but he finds his eyes glued to the line Sebastian's hand traces from shoulder to hip. It's a strong grip, Kurt can tell, and just the idea of it makes him squirm in his seat.

He knows they can't see him from the entrance, not that he thinks they would anyway, as they seem to be fused at the mouth, so Kurt doesn't make his presence known. He spends so much time outside of the apartment that he guesses Sebastian thinks he's not home, and therefore is more than happy to start undressing his partner right there.

Kurt surprises himself by following Sebastian's lips as they mouth along a collarbone rather than at the naked back the other man is presenting. His lips are pinkish and full, probably bruised from kissing. His hands are at the man's hips, holding on and teasing at the waistband of his jeans. When his nails dig into the man's back, there's a loud groan.

"Bedroom," Kurt hears Sebastian command, and as easy as that they're gone, taking their bodies and their sounds to the fortress of Sebastian's bedroom.

Kurt walks to the entrance slowly, idly looking at the discarded shirt on the floor. Then, he walks into his room. He can hear them through the walls, soft echoing moans that bounce inside Kurt's head. Kurt closes his eyes, thinking about looking for his iPod and trying to ignore the fact that he's half-hard. He succumbs, though, simply by thinking of the shape of Sebastian's fingers as his nails dug into the skin of his partner's back.

Kurt whimpers, full of shame as he kneels on the floor and plasters his ear to the wall, so he can listen better to the sounds coming from Sebastian's room. It's been almost easy to ignore so far when all he had to go with were sounds, but now that he's seen the other man, that he's seen Sebastian's mouth soft and wet on someone else's skin, he can't erase the image from his head.

He runs with it, letting his imagination fill the sounds he's hearing with possible pictures. When he reaches down into his own pajama pants, he's fully hard, and his head is full of the shape of Sebastian's arms, the curl of his lips and his tanned hips. As he strokes himself, hard and fast and raw, because this needs to feel like punishment, he tries to conjure up images of the other man, of his back and neck. He can't, though, not when his head is plagued by the thought of green eyes.

He comes after a loud grunt that can only belong to Sebastian, and he presses his forehead hard into the wall, as if that could erase the memory of what he's just done. It can't, though, so he just lets the sob that's crawling up his throat escape, and bites into his hand to not make another sound.

         

* * *

 

Next week, he invites Taylor over. He guides him to the living room, shares some coffee and some small talk with him, and then kisses him. He hasn't thought about kissing Taylor since Christmas, but now he can't stop himself, not when the feeling of his soft lips feels natural and right. Nothing wrong with kissing a cute boy his age, right?

Taylor answers the way Kurt expected, kissing back soft and nice. Kurt has been waiting for his first kiss since that stupid week in which he dated Brittany, and he guesses this is as good as it's going to get. He's not in love with Taylor, isn't sure he would like to date him or anything, but Kurt's not sure he's capable of such a thing right now, so this feels like enough.

Kurt opens his mouth for Taylor when his tongue licks into it, and breathes hard and fast into his mouth. The invasion is welcome, full of wetness and heat. Taylor presses his hands to Kurt's cheeks, holding him in place and angling his head so the kiss feels different, deeper. Kurt goes with it, bringing his arms around Taylor's waist and holding on.

It's almost perfect, so much that Kurt lets Taylor push him until they're lying down on the couch, Taylor a warm weight on top of Kurt. Their mouths keep working together, but now that they're lying down Kurt's hands have so much more to explore. He lets his fingers wander down Taylor's shoulders and back, pressing against his hips before going back to his neck and then bury themselves in his hair.

When their shirts come off, Kurt doesn't even question it. There's a part of him that's thinking of fantasies of real love and the touch of fingertips, but he's been feeling so unsettled since he came to live at Seattle than he can't think about them. All he knows is that the expanse of skin touching his own is hot and soft, and that he's been starved for touch for entirely too long.

His lips are starting to feel raw when he hears someone clearing his throat and a loud knock against the wall. Taylor jumps from the couch so quickly that Kurt can't help the whimper that escapes his lips.

"Mind explaining what this is, son?" Sebastian asks from where he's perched against the doorframe.

Kurt hears Taylor gasp from somewhere inside the room, and spares a second to pity him for thinking that he's been caught doing something horrible. Kurt has to bite his lip before he says anything about Sebastian calling him _son._

Sebastian keeps looking, and Kurt says nothing, simply leaning back on his elbows and returning a steady pair of eyes. He's breathing hard, can't seem to stop panting, and he knows his hair is in complete disarrange and his blush is covering half his chest. Sebastian doesn't seem capable of looking away, and instead of trying to cover himself, Kurt feels defiant enough to stay bare-chested.

"Why don't you pick up your clothes and go?" says Sebastian, clearly talking to Taylor even if he's not looking at him. Kurt can't help but notice that it's the exact same thing he said to that first man Kurt saw him bring home what feels like ages ago.

Taylor squeaks next to him, and quickly pulls his shirt on and runs away from the apartment without even a single look thrown Kurt's way.

"So, are you going to explain yourself or not?" Sebastian asks, cocking his head to the side.

Kurt bites his cheek when anger starts bubbling somewhere low in his stomach. "I thought the situation was self-explanatory."

"So then it's what I thought," Sebastian says, taking a step forward into the room. He's still looking at Kurt, unrelenting. "You think it's just fine to bring anyone in here and do _that._ "

"Considering your man per week routine, I figured there was no problem," Kurt says back. He finally moves then, standing up from the couch and picking up his discarded t-shirt from the floor. He doesn't put it on, though, doesn't hide his chest or the fact that he's half-hard and straining against his tight jeans.

"There's a reason why I'm the parent, here."

"Oh, really," says Kurt, and now there's venom in his voice. "You could have fooled me."

Kurt tries to make his exit after another eye to eye confrontation, but Sebastian shoots forward, grabbing his arm and making him stop. Kurt wants to flinch, because there's still a fading bruise there, but he can't bring himself to step away from the touch of Sebastian's fingers on his naked skin. Sebastian seems to realize what he's done only after Kurt's gasp. He lets go as if burnt.

After a beat of tense silence, he says, "Keep it to your room."

"What?"

"Whatever you do, keep it to you room."

"Fine."

            

* * *

 

It's as if they've taken a step back after that, to where they were when Kurt first arrived. They barely talk, not even when they cross paths inside the apartment, and Sebastian doesn't bring anyone back, probably choosing to keep his sexual encounters far away from Kurt. Kurt wants to be relieved, but after a few weeks of this the loneliness feels like too much.

He talks with Taylor after that day, and tells him some made up lie about his father not being ok with his homosexuality, almost managing to turn it into a sob story. It feels like a betrayal to anyone he's ever called a father, because him being gay has definitely never been something to be ashamed of in their presence. Tayler buys it, though, and leaves him alone, barely managing a nod when they cross paths at school. Kurt hates that he feels relieved.

By the time his birthday rolls around, Kurt's reverted to his past self, quiet and lonely, merely a ghost wherever he goes. That, though, doesn't make him invisible to the couple of jocks that just love messing with him and that are responsible for the constant bruising in his arms and shoulders. They're a pair brutes, and they almost make Kurt miss Karofsky and Azimio.

"Wanna know what I heard, fancy?" is how the attack begins that day. Kurt would roll his eyes and walk away if only his path wasn't being blocked by two guys the size of a closet.

"Please, do tell," Kurt says, "I'm shaking with anticipation."

"I hear that daddy doesn't like what you do with other boys."

Kurt tenses at that, because _dammit, Taylor, I thought you were better than that._ The thought of these guys referring to Sebastian as his _daddy_ almost makes him sick to his stomach.

"It's disgusting, you know."

"Are you done?" Kurt fumes, sharp, angry and suddenly entirely over these people and their brains the size of peas. "Can you just shove me around already to fulfill your need for mindless violence and let me go? I have things to do."

"Well look at that, he's asking for it and everything."

That afternoon, he arrives home with a split lip and pain shooting down his arm. To be completely honest, the lip had been his own fault, since he'd been the one to bite it after a particularly hard shove.

Sebastian's nowhere to be seen, so he cleans himself up as best as he can and takes a scalding shower, trying to forget the whole day ever happened. He barely manages to hold his tears in when he talks to Carole, who says she's sent a present in the mail and that she hopes it gets there soon. Any other call he ignores, too tired to deal with Rachel, Mercedes and even Finn.

He foregoes dinner that night and goes to bed early, hiding himself under blankets as if that could make the outside world go away. He's woken up in the middle of the night by a knock on his door. At first he thinks he's imagined it, but when a second one comes, he shuffles away from the bed and opens the door. There's no one behind it, but when he looks down, he finds a small, flat package on the floor. He picks it up, reads the simple note that says _Happy Birthday._

The package contains a scarf, soft and bright colored and perfect, and he laughs because at least Sebastian knows how to choose a gift. He wraps it around himself, letting the fabric fall around his shoulders and arms, and it is only then that he allows himself to cry.

            

* * *

 

Next morning, over coffee, Sebastian breaks their month of silence with, "What the fuck happened to you?"

Kurt looks at him with curious eyes. He's positive there's nothing different about him this morning, but when Sebastian's eyes zero in on his lip, he remembers everything about yesterday.

"Oh," he says, bringing a hand up to his lip.

"Yes, oh," Sebastian counters, stepping into his personal space in record time.

Kurt takes a deep breath when Sebastian removes his hand only to substitute with his own. His finger feels warm against Kurt's dry lip, and God, they're entirely too close.

"I bit myself," Kurt says.

Sebastian snorts. "Did you throw yourself against lockers as well?"

Kurt tries to shake his head, but Sebastian's touch on his lip has turned into him grasping his chin firmly. Kurt can't breathe. "I mean it," he manages to say. "I bit my lip when they shoved me against a wall."

There's anger in Sebastian's gaze, bright and scary. The green in his eyes feels darker somehow, and the hand at Kurt's chin presses even tighter on his skin.

"That's it, I'm talking to your principal, and if I don't get someone expelled for this I won't answer for my actions."

"You really don't have to-"

 "Shut up, kid, and let me at least take care of this."

            

* * *

 

Sebastian manages to get the two boys suspended until the board can make any further decisions. Kurt's pretty sure that nothing's going to come from the accusations of the kid who's gay enough that he can't hide it, but that doesn't mean that he doesn't appreciate the fire with which Sebastian speaks to the principal. He thinks back to his words that morning - _at least let me take care of this -_ and realizes that Sebastian has never been more fatherly than that.

That night, they order Chinese and watch a movie, which means that they spend more time together in the same room than they have in the past month. Balance seems to be restored, and Kurt is surprised at finding a knot somehow unraveling from his chest. He hates thinking that he's missed whatever sort of relationship he has with Sebastian.

            

* * *

 

The restoring of balance means the return of strange men to the apartment. It's not as often, and by the time the school year is over, Kurt's pretty sure that he's seen the same guy at least twice. Something dark twists in his gut when he thinks of Sebastian not finding someone that he can even keep around for breakfast, so he avoids staying at the house as much as possible.

With the beginning of the summer, they start talking about school options for next year. Sebastian wants something expensive and preppy, which Kurt translates as some place where no one will punish him for being different and where he may actually learn something useful. He can't say he would mind.

Sebastian also tries talking to him about going back to Ohio for some time, but Kurt won't hear a thing about it. With as much free time as he has, he can't wrap his mind around the idea of wandering around a Burtless Lima.

           

* * *

 

Two weeks into his summer vacation, it all comes crushing down. It's past midnight and Kurt walks into the kitchen to get a glass of water. He's turned into a light sleeper over the past few months, so it's not that uncommon to find himself wandering around the house at this time of night. After drinking a couple of sips from his glass, he hears a groan. He rolls his eyes because _honestly, Sebastian_ , but when another one comes he realizes that it can't be coming from the bedroom if he's hearing them this clearly.

He tenses, clutching the glass tight in his hand. That doesn't stop him from walking towards the living room, sock covered feet light on the wooden floor. He doesn't go inside the room, but he doesn't need to in order to see the fully naked back of a stranger. Sebastian's hands are framing his hips, the pads of his fingers resting on the swell of the man's ass. Kurt inhales, and he feels like the air burns going in.

He trails his gaze up Sebastian's arm, following the lightly muscled skin until he's seeing a shoulder. Sebastian's taller than the other man, so he can see his collarbones, sharp even in the low light of the room. When his gaze keeps moving upwards, he fancies he can see Sebastian's pulse beating rapidly on his neck. His eyes finish their trip when they meet Sebastian's, and Kurt gasps, taking a single step back and forgetting about being silent. The other man doesn't seem to notice, but Sebastian is staring right at him, his eyes shining bright green.

When Sebastian kisses the man's neck, he's still looking at Kurt. He doesn't move his eyes away, not when his hand reaches down to cup an ass cheek, or when his teeth leave a mark on tender skin. Looking away is a physical effort.

Kurt runs away, mindless of the noise he's making, goes into his bedroom and leans on the door after closing it behind himself. He opens his mouth to breathe, and the sound of it is harsh in the darkness of his room. He whimpers, feeling helpless, and slides down to the floor.

A few minutes later, he hears an angry voice, quickly followed by the front door closing. He can only guess that either Sebastian has kicked his partner out or the man has chosen to leave himself. Whatever the case, is all the excuse Kurt needs to walk away from his bedroom and back into the living room. He lingers by the doorframe, his fingers resting softly on the wall, because he feels as if his skin won't be able to contain him anymore and he needs that point of contact with reality.

Sebastian is sitting on the couch, thankfully still wearing a pair of unbuttoned jeans. Kurt can guess at the shape of his hard cock, though, and he swallows, feeling uncomfortable in his own light sleeping pants and t-shirt. When Sebastian looks up, he looks wrecked.

"Come here," he says.

Kurt doesn't doubt for a second, walking towards Sebastian's sitting figure with soft steps. He stops before they're touching, looking and waiting with trepidation for whatever is about to happen. Sebastian feels warm even from where he's standing, and Kurt wants to reach out, find that source of heat.

"I said," Sebastian intones, looking up and into his eyes, "Come _here."_

Kurt yelps when Sebastian reaches for him, making him tumble ungraciously onto his lap. It takes a moment, but Kurt finds his footing and fixes himself with his thighs spread over Sebastian's, his knees at his sides. His hands come to rest on Sebastian's shoulders, and they grip tightly at the skin. He breathes in and out fast, trying to process the feeling of Sebastian's strong thighs under his, the shape of his cock against his leg, the feel of his shoulders under his palms.

"Say no, Kurt," is what Sebastian's whispers after a minute of impassiveness. "Goddamit, Kurt, please say no."

Kurt lets his mouth hang open, as if any words may come out. Rationally, his mind is yelling at him to stop whatever this, because this is his father under him, and surely everything about this is wrong. Except his father is the man who raised him, who gave him childhood memories and unconditional support, who loved his mother with all his heart and who chose to gift Kurt with his last name. And that is gone, all that is gone and Kurt has been so alone that Sebastian's touch feels like it could cure him from his loneliness, like it could give him a place to belong and to feel safe. So he closes his mouth, and says nothing, only looking into Sebastian's eyes.

Sebastian groans, moves forward and up and kisses Kurt. His lips are wet and hot, and Kurt hates knowing that he's been kissing someone else not half an hour ago. He crushes those thoughts, though, and instead sighs into the kiss and relaxes into the touch of Sebastian's hands around his back and on his shoulders, bringing him closer.

Kissing Sebastian is nothing like kissing Taylor, probably because he's not a fumbling teenager, but also because there's desperation behind his movement, behind the touch of his tongue against Kurt's. Kurt chases it, though, craves it, because he's been feeling the exact same way and maybe if they kiss hard enough they can make all the grief go away.

Sebastian tastes sweet, of the remnants of some kind of alcohol and fruit. His lips are not pliant but restless, sucking onto Kurt's only to latch back again and kiss him deeper. After what feels like hours, ages, an eternity, Sebastian breaks away and Kurt whimpers, following his tasty lips with his own. Sebastian regards him with something thoughtful in his expression, and Kurt hopes he's not trying to stop this, because they're too far gone to go back now.

The next thing he knows, Sebastian is standing up, his arms resting under Kurt's ass so he can carry him. Kurt yelps, surprised, but crosses his ankles around Sebastian's back and wraps his arms tight around his shoulders. He rests his face against Sebastian's neck, pressing his hands, open-palmed, to the skin of Sebastian's back. He feels hot all over, being carried like this and touching this much of Sebastian's skin, being so close that he can smell Sebastian's cologne mixing with his sweat.

Sebastian takes them to Kurt's bedroom, and places Kurt on the bed carefully. He steps away momentarily, and Kurt is scared yet again, afraid that Sebastian is leaving him alone with his thoughts. He reaches out, arm stretched before him, and Sebastian only groans, kneeling on the bed as he places a kiss to the inside of Kurt's wrist.

Sebastian stops to look at Kurt yet again, and Kurt wonders if he's asking himself what he can and can't do, how far he should go with this. Kurt wants to tell him that he can do _anything,_ but he doesn't, not when the next thing Sebastian does is reach out and tug the hem of Kurt's shirt upwards until he can remove it. Then, he presses his palm against Kurt's chest and Kurt complies, lying down on the bed.

Sebastian stays kneeling, looking at him as if discovering some treasure, hovering over him in a way that could almost be seen as menacing. His breathing is harsh and loud, gets quicker when he moves down to press his lips against Kurt's breastplate. Kurt breathes in, sharp, when wet, warm lips make their way over his chest, barely resting on one nipple before they travel to the other.

Kurt can hear himself breathing, loud pants that echo inside the room and mix with Sebastian's, but he's pretty sure that the air is not coming in. His skin feels tight, on fire, trails of heat appearing wherever Sebastian places his lips. He can't think, and he can barely move. The feeling of Sebastian's lips right under his navel makes him buck his hips up, hard and sudden. Sebastian presses him back against the bed, broad hands keeping him in place and branding him they are so hot.

Kurt's not sure how long Sebastian kisses him all over, but he's pretty sure nobody can take this much, can spend so long completely untouched and then be assaulted by all this at once. By the time Sebastian pulls his pants and underwear away, Kurt feels like a boneless mass of skin. Sebastian looks up at him before doing something else, his expression almost wolfish from between Kurt's legs. Kurt blinks his eyes open, and looks back at him, wanton and trusting.

At the first touch of Sebastian's tongue against his cock, Kurt's hips try to move up, but Sebastian is ready for it and holds him down. Kurt moans as he arches of the bed, his legs wrapping themselves around Sebastian over his shoulders of their own volition. Sebastian presses his hands to Kurt's thighs, keeping him in place as he licks his way down his cock, sucking his balls into his mouth and then moving lower still. Kurt thinks he won't be able to take much more, and he grasps the sheets tight between his hands when Sebastian goes back to his cock and swallows him down.

Kurt wants to look, he wants to see the hollowed cheeks and the long eyelashes falling on Sebastian's cheeks. He wants to see Sebastian's lips wrapped tightly around his cock, but he can barely manage to trash around under the assault on his senses.

"It's ok, baby, you can let go." And _God_ , Sebastian's voice is low and raw.

Sebastian licks a broad stripe up Kurt's stomach before going back down on his cock, and Kurt feels the orgasm building low on his groin. He comes with a silent scream, feels it from the tips of his toes all the way to his hair. He's breathing hard and Sebastian's still swallowing when he pulls away from him. He drops his legs, leaving him spread eagled, flushed and sated on the bed, and Kurt's never felt so shameless in his life.

Sebastian breathes out through his mouth, the sound loud and harsh, and kneels between Kurt's spread legs. Kurt's too tired - maybe too stunned - to do anything more than watch as he pulls himself out from his jeans, and strokes himself once, twice.

Kurt murmurs a soft _oh_ , and Sebastian groans and tumbles forward, resting a hand next to Kurt's waist on the mattress and hovering over him as he keeps touching himself. His rhythm is hard and unforgiving, and his eyes are settled on Kurt, even when Kurt can only look at the way his hand moves over his hard cock. When Sebastian grunts, almost desperate, Kurt surges up and kisses him. It's more a bite than a kiss, he realizes, but it's enough to send Sebastian over the edge, his come painting warm lines over Kurt's stomach.

There's only breathing then, fast and loud.

Sebastian is the first one to move. He steps away from the bed and comes back with a towel. He wipes at Kurt's stomach, and Kurt breathes in and out, his eyes fixed on Sebastian's movements. He's suddenly assaulted by the fear of Sebastian leaving, of him going back to his own bedroom and leaving Kurt cold, naked and used, so he surges forward yet again and wraps his arms around Sebastian's neck. He's being clingy, but he can't bear the thought of being alone right now, not when he's feeling closer to Sebastian than he ever has. Sebastian clutches back, only for a second, and then makes as if to move away. Kurt whimpers like a lost animal.

"Shh," Sebastian soothes. "Let's just get under the covers."

Kurt lets him go then, and when they're both under the covers he shuffles closer and burrows into Sebastian's heat. He's gotten fully undressed at some point, and Kurt feels all of their skin touching, legs and arms and chests. With that much warmth around him, he falls asleep easily.

            

* * *

 

Next morning, Kurt wakes up alone. He's also alone for the next week. Sebastian doesn't show up at the apartment, and Kurt knows he's not even spending the nights there because he's hyperaware of every noise inside the house.

He feels... neglected, and he wants to laugh at the thought. He guesses that he should be feeling something close to guilt, or at least some inadequacy at having broken the rules of human relationships so thoroughly. But he can't, not when the thought of Sebastian's hands on his skin still sends shiversdown his spine.

He tries reading, but he can't. He finds himself constantly distracted, as if waiting for this something that he's sure is going to happen. He's also pretty sure that he won't like it.

After a week, Sebastian comes back. He walks into the apartment, shoulders hunched and head down, and sits himself down by the kitchen table. Kurt follows him with heavy steps, wary, but sits down across from him. He knows the table is a buffer, a physical and tangible separation between them, and Kurt can give Sebastian at least the comfort of that.

When Sebastian finally looks up, his eyes seem to be carrying all of the guilt that Kurt isn't feeling.

"I've been making arrangements for next year," Sebastian says after a minute. His voice is pitched low and emotionless, almost distant.

"Arrangements?"

"For your school."

"Oh."

Sebastian continues, happy to ignore Kurt's soft exhalation. "I found a private school in Westerville, back in Ohio. Dalton Academy. It's a good place, has a zero-tolerance policy, and I hear that their Glee Club is good; you'll like it."

"Wait, Ohio?"

"It's a boarding school," Sebastian soldiers on. "I talked to Mrs. Hudson, and she'll be happy to have you over the weekends. Or maybe you'd like to stay with a friend, or something, I don't-"

"You're sending me away," Kurt mumbles.

"Christmas and summer, you can also go wherever you'd like and-"

"What if I want to come here?"

Sebastian inhales loudly, looses for a second the cool shade in his eyes and looks straight into Kurt's. "Not here, you can't come here."

Kurt's mouth hangs open, wide and surprised. "You're sending me away _forever?_ "

"Look, Kurt, you can have your life back home but in a decent school. And then you can apply to college wherever you like, New York or, or whatever, ok? Money is not a problem, and I'll make sure you have everything you need, but you can't, you _can't_ stay here."

The words feel almost like a physical blow, and Kurt has to argue back with, "You didn't do anything wrong, you know? You didn't do anything I didn't want."

"But I did!" Sebastian exclaims, and with that all of his façade crumbles, his guilty eyes giving way to silent tears. He looks away, his breath hitching painfully. "I'm supposed to be the adult here, Kurt, to take care of you. I'm supposed to be you f..." he stops, lets the word linger unsaid between them. "I'm supposed to be the adult," he repeats, softly.

Kurt is dumbfounded, but doesn't know what to say other than, "You didn't force me to do anything."

With that, there's silence. It feels heavy and tight between them, and Kurt doesn't think he will be able to take it for much longer.

"How long will it take you to pack? I'll get your tickets and let Mrs. Hudson know when you're arriving."

Kurt only manages to mumble, "A week, give me a week."

          

* * *

 

During his last week in Seattle, Sebastian makes himself scarce. Kurt uses his time to pack his things and take his last walks around the city. Out of spite, he steals a couple of Sebastian's books and one of his t-shirts, and hides the items away deep in one of his suitcases.

They don't talk at all during that week, but the tension is palpable, so thick that it's almost a third presence between them.

On his last night in town, Kurt can't sleep. Sebastian almost knocks into him when he's fetching a glass of water from the kitchen, and while taking a couple of steps back he says, "Jeez, princess, turn on the light, will you?"

Sebastian hasn't sounded that natural around him in weeks. Kurt guesses that the thought that he's finally leaving is letting his conscience rest and feel comfortable in his skin again. Kurt doesn't turn on the light, merely watching as Sebastian steps away from him and leans back against the fridge. Kurt thinks about making small talk for a minute, getting whatever memories he can from his last night here, but he doesn't have the energy. Instead, he leaves his glass of water on the counter and walks towards Sebastian until he's chest to chest with him.

Sebastian makes the unconscious effort of trying to move back, but he's trapped against the fridge. When Kurt moves his arms up and around his neck, he murmurs, softly, "Kurt..."

"You're sending me away," is what Kurt tells him, keeping himself close, as close as he can. He's breathing against Sebastian's mouth when he murmurs, "We won't even see each other again... Please, Sebastian. Please, _dad._ "

That word does something, breaks something inside Sebastian, who groans and brings his hands to Kurt's cheeks, to cup his face and kiss him properly, hard and desperate.

That night, Sebastian fucks him into the mattress, his cock buried deep inside Kurt and Kurt's legs wrapped tight around his waist. It's wrong, Kurt knows it's wrong, but he knows he'll never regret it.

           

* * *

 

Next morning, Sebastian helps him carry his bags around, helps him check in and then stands next to him before the airport's controls. He's motionless, his expression blank, and Kurt's not sure how he's expected to say goodbye to this man. Before he knows it, there's tears running down his face.

He looks at Sebastian steadily, and then moves towards him, wrapping himself around him in a tight hug. His hands fist on the fabric of Sebastian's coat, and his breathing seems to falter by the time Sebastian hugs back, almost as tight. Kurt feels raw and vulnerable, doesn't know what the hell he's been doing for the past few months and how he's supposed to face his life back in Ohio. He wishes he could beg to stay.

"I haven't fucked you up completely," Sebastian says against his ear, his breath warm and trembling. "Please, say I haven't."

Kurt laughs, and the sound bubbles strangely when it mixes with his tears. They let go then, both of them taking a step back, and the air between them feels as if they have built an invisible wall.

"Go, kid," Sebastian says. "Go already."

Kurt nods, once. Then, he turns around, takes a step forward, and doesn't look back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
